


Taming the Bear

by madlyhazel



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Connor is Not Good with Emotions, F/M, First Time, One Shot, Reader-Insert, Virgin Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8503369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlyhazel/pseuds/madlyhazel
Summary: Connor is horrible with emotions. He never knows how to express himself and says the wrong thing. He's bull-headed and easy to anger. So, he wonders, why are you still with him?





	

“Careful. It is not wise to lift things you cannot carry.”

A hand on your hip had initially signaled his presence. It was broad, the fingertips just cold enough to be felt through your blouse. It seemed he wasn’t entirely unaffected by the cool weather that fall had decided to bring with it. That hand moved away, accompanying the other as they took the cast-iron pot from your hands. You’d attempted to retrieve it from the top shelf, having been unaware about just how heavy it would be. Luckily Connor had been there just in time to save you before you made a fool of yourself.

He set the pot on the wooden table behind you, glancing around the various ingredients that littered the surface. Cuts of meat, lentils, cabbages, ginger, onions, potatoes, and small jars filled with various herbs. His brow furrowed slightly, picking up a jar and examining its contents. “What is all of this for?”

“I’m making a big stew tonight. I wanted to make enough just in case some of the Homestead was interested in having some.” You rolled up the sleeves to your blouse, nodding your chin toward the pot. “I needed that cumbersome thing to mix the dry ingredients in. I’m glad you came along.”

He hummed softly, setting the jar back down. “This seems to be a large job for one person.”

You waved him off, picking up the knife you’d already laid on the table so you could get to work peeling and slicing the potatoes. “It’s nothing too bad. I figured I might as well use up the cabbages and potatoes Prudence gave me, and I’d make this as a thank you to everyone who’s been helping me. Just as well,” you glanced up to offer him a small smile, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have dinner with everyone?”

“The manor is going to be very cluttered.”

“Hush, Connor. I’m sure even you’d like to sit down and talk to everyone for a little bit.”

“I talk to them every day.”

“I mean really talk,” you chided, nudging him with your hip. He didn’t budge. “You’ve been busy lately, Connor. I think it would be nice if you took a bit of time to simply stop.”

The man didn’t look too pleased about your comment. His lips pursed together and his brow furrowed. You let out a short laugh, turning your attention back down to the potatoes. Your hand moved quickly, freeing the tuber of its tough skin. You would probably have to boil them before actually putting them in the cauldron with everything else. They might be too tough otherwise.

You could still sense Connor standing next to you. His eyes were on you, and he seemed to be a bit tense. Then again, he was always wound up. The man had a million things running through his head at any given moment, and that put endless amounts of stress on his mind and body. He was young, yet wrinkles already were evident on his forehead and beneath his eyes.

That was half the reason you were hosting this dinner tonight. It would keep Connor seated in one spot for a little while, and perhaps good food and conversation would allow him to relax. He was adamant in telling you that he was perfectly fine, but the sighs he released when he thought no one else was around said otherwise. In his short life he’d already been through so much turmoil. It would do him well to at least have one uneventful night.

“What do you have planned for today?” you softly questioned, twisting the potato around in your hand.

Connor shifted awkwardly on his feet, turning his attention toward the window in the kitchen. His dark eyes scanned the outdoors, watching branches as they swayed softly in the gentle autumn breeze. “Godfrey and Terry told me they would need help moving lumber today. They have a load at the sawmill that needs to be put onto their wagon, but they cut too much for them to handle.”

“They always seem to bite off more than they can chew, hm?”

“Yes,” he agreed, eyes slipping back down to you, “Mr. White also asked me to collect medicinal herbs. I will likely head into the woods later today.”

“Don’t stay out too long. I really want you to eat dinner with us.”

“Do not worry. I promise I will watch my time.”

Connor leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist briefly so he could pull you close enough to place a kiss on your temple. Then he was gone, as quick as he’d come. He left the kitchen with a swish of his Assassin robes, and you were left alone to tend to dinner once again.

Your relationship with the man was an unusual one, but it was not unhappy by any means. He simply was busy with the life he led, and thus it left him with little time to be by your side. Initially, it was something that had nearly split you apart early into your relationship. You were sick of him either sleeping as soon as he got back from his trips or doing his own tasks in his free time. Now, however, you’d come to understand he didn’t have much time for you.

Just as well, he’d learned to spend what time he could with you. It certainly wasn’t much, and it often left you wanting more, but you were happy. Though inexperienced, Connor was an attentive lover. He ensured your needs were met, and he refused to let you suffer alone. Even on those late nights where you could see the dark rings under his eyes and his body sagging from exhaustion, he stayed up with you until your last tears were shed and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Though intimidating to many, he was kind. You smiled when fondly recalling how he’d come barreling inside the house one day, carrying a rather feisty fox pup who’d taken to biting what it could of his hands and arms. Eventually, after prying the vixen’s teeth from his skin, the two of you had taken her to Mr. White, and a bit of convincing got him to treating a nasty wound she had on her leg. After a few days, she was well enough to walk, and Connor returned her to her equally ferocious mother.

So was it selfish of you to say you wanted more?

You were happy with your relationship. While he wasn’t around often, your moments shared were meaningful. Yet he always seemed to be holding back. His kisses were chaste and his touches fleeting. You played this off as boyish shyness, but you figured after several months into your relationship he would grow more comfortable and confident. Yet even nights when you slept in each other’s embrace he ensured he was never too close, and he was often more than happy to doze off.

You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so you went at his pace. For being such a large man, he often acted like a meek mouse. The slightest pressure for more had him skittering away with excuses that he had other things to tend do. You wondered if he simply wasn’t bothered to have a sexual relationship at all, but you’d accidentally caught him in the throes of his own pleasure on more than one occasion. So what on earth made him so nervous?

Perhaps he didn’t see you in that light. Clearly he liked you well enough, considering he was the one to come to you with a bouquet of flowers and rosy cheeks asking if you’d like to ‘pursue this relationship further.’ It was possible he just wasn’t attracted to you in such a way. If so, you’d really wish he would tell you so you weren’t wondering if something was your fault.

It really wasn’t healthy to think about this in depth. It made you doubt yourself and your relationship, and you wanted to be happy. Connor was more than you could have ever hoped for, so you should be satisfied with what you had. You pushed all such thoughts from your mind, instead focusing on swiping the potato skins off to the side. You had better things to tend to. If you were going to cry, it was going to be over cutting onions.

\---

Evening came quicker than you’d anticipated, and you were hurriedly stirring the cauldron to ensure everything was properly heated. Achilles had come down a little bit earlier, face alight at the smell of the stew. You’d allowed him a small taste, and at his suggestion you’d sprinkled just a little more pepper into the pot. The older gentleman had left shortly after, the sound of his cane fading.

Apparently he’d gone to tell those nearby about dinner, for soon enough the Homestead’s residents were flooding inside the manor. Prudence and Warren hovered around the cauldron, complementing you on just how good it smelled; Diana and Catherine were pushing you to tell exactly what was in it; you slapped away Norris’ hand when he reached down the ladle to grab a taste before dinner began. The manor had erupted into a clamor of happy conversation, and Connor was still nowhere to be seen.

Chairs had been drug from all corners of the house and tables were combined to make a seating area large enough for the crowd. The women, including little Maria, helped set up the table, and Prudence handed off Hunter to a slightly overwhelmed Warren. The child begun to cry as soon as he was separated from his mother, thus resulting in David and Lance making faces to cheer him up. All the while, Mr. Faulkner had begun to go into some elaborate story about a ship battle with a group of corrupt French merchants, and the distance of his shots grew and grew as the story carried on.

Dinner was served with little incident, and some fruits and vegetables had been taken from cold storage and cut up to be eaten as a side dish. Prudence took Hunter back, chiding the men on their complete inability to care for a child.

“Really, you two, how are you ever going to have children?”

“Maybe you should teach the kid a bit of humor!” exclaimed David, looking a little hurt, “I’m hilarious. He just doesn’t know it.”

“Your jokes aren’t funny,” Lance muttered, folding his arms across his chest.

“You’re kidding, right? I told you the one with the cow and—“

“David,” Achilles called out, his voice scratchy, but good-natured, “Let’s leave the comedy to the professionals, else I’ll find myself bored to death and in the ground much sooner than I’d like.”

The table rumbled with laughter, and even the smith let out a few chuckles of his own. You settled yourself next to Myriam, and open seat next to you. The huntress leaned over, pointing to the chair with her spoon.

“Is he still out?”

You let out an annoyed huff, nodding your head. “Yes, and he promised he’d be back before dinner.” You glanced toward the window. “It’s still light enough he should find his way, but I hope he comes home before we’re done.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Myriam offered, scooping up the hearty stew, “You know how he gets, distracted by nature and all.”

That was true enough, but you wanted him back now. This dinner had been planned to help him relax, and he was missing the event entirely. At this rate, the fires would die down and his food would grow cold. You sighed, stirring the stew casually. Potatoes shifted from the bottom to the top, their starchy innards stained with the soup’s stock. This smelled good and tasted even better, but it still left you feeling slightly sour.

The night continued on, and your mood brightened slightly. Oliver, David, and Godfrey left halfway through dinner to bring some heavier beverages. The table was soon rancorous, spirits having been freed with some of Oliver’s finer ale. You giggled behind your tankard as Faulkner began to recount another tale of vagabonds, thieves, and heroism. You suspected it was only true in part, but were entertained nonetheless as the man explained how he fought off three men single-handedly with no more than a splinter from the ship he worked on.

Myriam snorted into her drink, soon slamming the mug on the table and reeling back as she clenched her nose and tried to hold back a fit of laughter. Next to her, Norris patted her shoulder in concern and amusement, watching as she waved her hand in the air. You imagined that ale couldn’t feel great going up one’s nose, but it was terribly funny. It even had the most stoic of company chuckling.

“I see I have come in at a good time.”

You could just barely hear the voice over the laughter filling the room, but your head shot up regardless. You smiled broadly toward Connor, who stood beneath the archway rather sheepishly. The others noticed his presence as well, either waving or greeting him.

“Aye, Connor! Welcome back,” Terry spoke up, his voice loud from the alcohol that filled his body, “Thanks a bunch for helping Godfrey and I today.”

He gave a small nod, beginning to walk toward you. He glanced toward Mr. White, his smile small. “I dropped the herbs off at the clinic. Forgive me, I did not know where to put them. They will be waiting on the table for you.”

The doctor offered his thanks before diving back into a conversation with Timothy about some scholarly subject. Connor reached the chair you’d set out for him, placing a large hand on it so he could move to pull it out.

“By the way, Connor—“ It was Terry again, a grin spreading across his face. “—are those flowers for me?”

He made a small noise, as if he was choking on air. Looking up, you could immediately tell his cheeks had darkened slightly, and his fingers were tightening on the back of the chair. Purple and yellow soon filled your vision.

“They’re for… They’re for her.”

You took the proffered wildflowers, their stems thin and soft. They appeared to have been very carefully plucked, the ends of them carefully severed from their roots. You stared toward Connor curiously, though he did not make an effort to meet your vision.

“I am sorry for being late. I saw these in a clearing and thought of you.”

Maria mimicked a retching sound, causing the table to burst into laughter while he mother swatted the back of her head. You chuckled as well, gripping the flowers to your chest as you smiled up at Connor. He still looked a bit embarrassed, but the inklings of a smile tickled the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you. Stew’s still hot, if you’re hungry.”

He gave an eager nod, picking up the empty wooden bowl you’d laid out for him so he could fetch dinner. While you had been a bit upset that he’d been gone for so long, you were glad it was for a good cause. You glanced down to the flowers in your hands once again, admiring them. They were so small and delicate, yet they appeared to be completely unharmed. Connor had taken great care to ensure they arrived to you in pristine condition.

He soon settled down next to you, piping hot stew in hand. He blew on it carefully before taking a sip, tasting the broth. His face immediately warmed up, his features softening and his eyes closing. He gave a small nod, leaning toward you slightly.

“Thank you. It is very good.” Those eyes opened, dark and soothing. “I am glad I made it home in time. I know how hard you worked on this. Everyone seems happy.”

You flushed slightly at his compliment, but the smile never left your face. He was sometimes so genuine that it was a bit embarrassing, but you appreciated that honestly. He was never one to lie. Soon, Connor was turning his attention to the table, and he joined into a conversation between the lumberjacks. His voice was deep and soft, and small chuckles escaped him every time Terry’s accent got a little too thick and boisterous.

Those with children left earlier in the night, and your friends and company were soon trickling out of the manor. They bid their goodnights and complimented you on the good food, offering favors in return for the specially prepared meal. David and Lance were the last to leave, the latter dragging his drunken friend into the night. He’d begun to make jokes again, and you closed to door laughing at the look on the poor carpenter’s face.

Achilles had retired a while ago, stating that his age didn’t allow him to stay up for such eventful activities. The manor was quiet, the smells of the night having almost completely faded. Dishes sat stacked on the end of the wooden table, and Connor offered to help you wash the pile so you wouldn’t have so much work in the morning. Comfortable silence stretched between the two of you, happy to simply be working next to one another.

The flowers he had given you sat in a small vase on the kitchen table. A gentle reminder that he had kept them safe on his entire trip back home, even with all the other supplies he was carrying. You took pride in knowing he did all of that for you and you alone.

Connor wiped his brow as he set the last bowl out to dry, shaking out his hands above the wash basin. “Would you like me to walk you home?”

You had a small cabin not far from the manor that had been built for you a little while back. It was quaint and homely, but even the short trek seemed like too far a distance for the late night that crept over you.

You shook your head. “Actually, if it’s alright, mind if we stay in your room tonight?”

He stiffened slightly, but nodded nonetheless. “Of course,” he murmured, extending a hand to help you rise to your feet, “Let us get to bed, then.”

The trip to his room was short, and you didn’t offer to glance at what bare necessities littered the area. You’d been here often enough that you were no longer concerned by the lack of decoration the room held. He had a few trinkets here and there, either mementos of home or hunter’s décor. It was as if he could gather what he needed and leave at a moment’s notice. Luckily, he’d at least decided to make this place his home in the meantime.

As per ritual, Connor handed you one of his shirts, allowing you to change in the corner while he turned his back to you and did the same. Sometimes you slipped in peeks to witness the broad expanse of his back, but these were always short-lived. Far too quickly, you were both changed, he avoiding eye contact with your lower half, and you slipped into bed. You stretched your arms above your head, wincing as your shoulders popped.

“You worked hard today,” Connor whispered, propping his head up on his palm as he stared at you.

You shrugged, pulling an arm across your chest. “I don’t know about that. Cooking isn’t exactly difficult work.”

“You did all of that alone. I would not think that to be easy.”

“Says the man who can easily kill a bear.” You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You could feel it scrunch up beneath your lips, and you giggled softly.

Pulling back revealed him staring up at you, lips slightly parted and brow furrowed. You dropped your arm down from your chest, reaching it out in favor of stroking his cheek. He didn’t look any less grumpy, but he did slightly lean into your touch.

“What’s that face for?” you softly questioned, cocking up an eyebrow.

He made a noise low in his throat, pulling back from your hand. “You are… Gentle.”

“Would you rather have me be something else…?”

He sharply shook his head, his forehead developing more creases. He looked genuinely upset about something. You hadn’t expected your simple teasing to bring out such a reaction.

“Goodnight.”

He made to roll over, but you grasped the shoulder of his nightshirt, keeping him facing you. “Have I done something wrong?”

He huffed, averting his eyes. “No.”

“Connor,” you called softly, though there was a certain firmness behind your tone, “What’s going on?”

You didn’t want him to avoid you. You understood that he wasn’t very good with words, and he was even less skilled with his emotions. However, you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable or angry. He already felt such stress on a day-to-day basis that it seemed cruel to let him simmer over whatever was bothering him.

“I do not wish to bother you with my problems.”

You offered him a blank look. Really? “Connor,” you sighed, loosening the grip on his shirt, “I love you. I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything.”

He still looked extremely reluctant, like he was ready to wriggle away as soon as he had the chance. “It is insignificant.”

“And I cried over Maria bringing me flowers the other day. Sometimes the insignificant things can mean a lot to a person. So, please, just tell me.”

He watched you for a few moments more, as if deciding whether or not to give in. Your hand dropped away from his shirt, and you gave him the softest of looks.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

His eyebrows shot up, immediately smoothing away the wrinkles of frustration.

“Please.”

Connor’s eyes searched yours for only a second, and then he let out a sigh. You relaxed as well, knowing he would begin to explain his problem in the best way he could. He shifted up slightly in the bed, leaning against the headboard and freeing up his hands. You knew he liked to talk with them. You followed suit, pressing your shoulder into the smooth wood of the headboard as you waited on him to gather his thoughts.

“I struggle with expressing myself. It is not a strength of mine,” he began, shrinking in on himself slightly, “You are so open, with your emotions and feelings. But you also know when to stop. When I am angry, I cannot control myself very easily. When I am happy, I do not know how to show it. You do all of this so well, and it makes me feel… Small.”

He glanced to you, hoping that he was getting his meaning across well enough. You knew that when he was stressed, his grasp on the English language tended to slip slightly, despite having spoken it as a child. He wanted to go back to his roots, to speak words that could show his feelings, express his ideas. But many of those words had no translation. They were unique, and they were lost. It was one of the reasons he had troubles dealing with his emotions.

“You are so kind to me. You tell me how you feel and it makes me glad. I often do not deserve what happiness you bring me. I have been cruel sometimes, I’m sorry.”

You smiled gently, reaching out to briefly squeeze his hand. “And you apologize so much every time. You never have yelled at me, just ignored me. But you’re getting so much better.”

“I understand that, but I—“ He let out an annoyed sigh, squeezing your hand for a moment before releasing to run it back through his thick hair. “—I do not know how to act around you. You smile at me, and I want to smile back. You touch me, and I want to touch you back. You are a blessing to me, and I can never understand how to express my thanks. I am worried that if I try to show my feelings, they will be too much, or too little.

“I have so many thoughts inside of me that I want to show you. I want to love you as you love me, but I am afraid that I may hurt you. This is all new to me, and I do not know how to approach it. When learning to hunt and fight, the only person I could hurt was myself. I could work as hard as I liked without a consequence. I am afraid to hurt you. I…” His breath briefly caught in his throat, and it took a few moments for him to force past the barrier. “I am scared. I want to learn, but you are so gentle. I do not wish to ruin you.”

“Connor, you and I both know you would never hurt me,” you offered, the concern evident on your face. Yes, he was an Assassin, and thus that made him dangerous, but that certainly didn’t mean he would ever think of injuring you. He was simply unable to.

“But what if I do?”

He was staring at you with a look that made your heart clench. He was genuinely scared that he would do something to you unintentionally. Perhaps it wasn’t so much that he was worried that he would physically injure you, but that he would say or do something offensive. He was inexperienced; this was his first romantic relationship, and he wasn’t sure how to approach it. He often relied on training to help him learn, but that simply wasn’t an option in this situation.

He was afraid you would leave him.

You reached out your hands, grasping his and pulling them close to you. “Ratonhnhaké:ton, you think too much. Just because you might say something wrong doesn’t mean that I’m going to abandon you. Sure, I might be upset, but I’ll let you know. You can correct it. A good relationship has its ups and downs. We’ll argue, but then we’ll apologize. We’ll disagree and we’ll understand. You are caring and kind, Ratonhnhaké:ton, and I’m glad to wait for you to learn how to express that.”

Those deep, brooding eyes simply watched you, and, for the first time, his aloof mask fell. You had seen him in many ways, but it always seemed as if he was trying to hide something. He had learned to keep his emotions hidden, so as to not compromise a mission. Achilles had taught him well, but you’d often wished he hadn’t drilled him into being so expressionless. It took you a very long time to tell the differences in his emotions between little hints in body language. His eyebrows would twitch, his lips would curl, and his hands would fidget.

Now, he was a completely open book. You didn’t have to read his childish eyes or parted mouth to know how awed he felt. He slowly brought your hands up to his face, and he gingerly pressed his lips against him. His eyes fell shut and his head bowed slightly, and you allowed him to regain himself. Scolded so often for being cold and scorned for being Native, Connor had found someone who appreciated him for his flaws. Just as a man was drawn to things ancient and broken, you were drawn to Connor by the cracks in his character. It made him all the more beautiful in your eyes.

He opened his eyes, those owlish orbs blinking up at you. “May I hug you?”

You had to hold in a laugh. “You don’t have to ask, but yes.”

In a matter of seconds you were enveloped in his strong arms and pulled into his warm chest. He pulled you over his body, forcing you to sit on his thighs. He burrowed his nose into your neck, sighing softly. His hair tickled your face and his breath was hot against you. He seemed quite happy to merely hold you there, and he only melted further when you began to softly run your hand through his hair. Often so craved of touch, this was bliss for him.

You sat like that for quite some time, and you were almost convinced he’d fallen asleep. However, he slowly began to shift, pulling back so he could look at you with dazed eyes. It seemed then that he noticed how you sat atop him, and a small noise escaped from the back of his throat. His hand nervously skittered down the skirt of your nightdress that flared over his legs before settling on your hip. He seemed a bit conflicted, but nonetheless allowed you to stay.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he softly murmured, his gaze locked on the hand that sat on your hip. You offered a small shake of your head, and you could feel him relax slightly. In fact, you were far from uncomfortable. The fact that he was fine with your close proximity made you want to move even closer, to shift yourself atop him further and hold onto him tighter. But would that scare him off?

You tested your boundaries, stroking your hand down his cheek and cupping his jaw. As you leaned your mouth toward him, he seemed to take the hint. He met with you, giving a tiny moan at the chaste, gentle contact. It lasted no more than a few seconds, but Connor appeared pleased when you pulled back. That was good.

You called his name, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you mind if I kiss you in other places?”

“Other places…?” His voice was unsure, but not frightened.

You nodded, dipping your head down a bit to kiss his jaw. Your lips gingerly trailed down his face, planting a short kiss on his chin before moving further. When you moved to his neck, you could feel his Adam’s apple bob as he nervously swallowed. You pulled back, snorting slightly at the look of confusion on his face.

“You okay?”

Connor nodded, and you could feel not one, but two hands tighten on your hips. “It… Feels good.”

“Do you want me to continue?”

“Please.”

You smiled gingerly, placing your hands on his chest as you moved back in. He was tense beneath you, and you almost swore you could feel his heartbeat beneath your palms. It was heavy and fast, and the only control he held over himself was by gripping your hips tightly. It was a little painful, you had to admit, but if it kept him calm, you’d deal with the bruises that came along with it.

Your lips settled on the side of his neck, suckling along it with a tender force. He inhaled deeply beneath you, his body shuddering. You smirked against his dark skin, moving down farther until you settled in the crook of his neck. There, you sucked harder, raising the skin just enough to form a small hickey.

“Ah!” he gasped, curling into you.

You licked the skin soothingly, following the trail of his neck back up until you met with his mouth once again. A few more gentle kisses to his parted lips soothed him, and you were glad to see his darkened cheeks as you pulled back. He leaned forward to claim your lips once again, but you only pulled back further. His head fell back with a soft thump against the wooden headboard, and his lips were pursing in a tiny pout.

“I want to kiss you as well,” he protested, hands sliding up from your hips and cradling your back. He tugged your closer, staring at you nearly cross-eyed.

“We have been kissing,” you trilled, digging your nails ever so slightly into his chest. Despite the fabric covering his skin, he grunted.

“No, you are kissing me. There is a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“Do not tease me.”

He was then moving forward, pressing his lips against yours with more force than either of you had before. You moaned, grounding yourself by gripping his thighs with your own. Connor was pushing you backward, forcing you to sit straight as he pulled away from the headboard. One hand remained at your back while the other slid up, gripping the base of your neck with a firm tenderness. This was certainly a surprise out of him!

He only stopped when you could no longer breathe, the both of you pulling back to gasp and heave. He licked his lips, placing a single kiss to the hollow of your throat before looking back to you.

“And to think you call yourself inexperienced,” you huffed out, running a shaky hand through your hair in order to tame it.

“I am not blind,” he murmured, his voice low and fine, “I have seen what men do that women like. I just never thought to try it myself.”

It seemed like with everything else, he observed to learn. “Well, be my guest and please continue. I want to see what else you know.”

He hummed out a small laugh, leaning forward to mimic the ministrations you’d been performing on his neck earlier. You slid your arms up, favoring clinging around his neck than onto his chest. You sighed against him as he softly sucked, leaving dark marks all along your skin. He was gentle, but his calloused hands hinted to something darker. He gripped and pulled at you, bringing you as close to him as he possibly could. His blunt nails scraped along your back, and his fingers pressed into the back of your neck with a need.

Connor may have been inexperienced, but he was not unaware. Even the newest of young men generally knew what a woman liked. Even if they knew not how to act on it, they knew a woman liked to be doted on. She appreciated him coming to her and treating her like she was important. Having grown up in a tight-knit community, Connor understood this extremely well. He sought to please, and this was another, more intimate way to go about it. Of course, in the end, he could only know so much without explicitly learning it.

He pulled away once he was sufficiently satisfied with the marks that he had left on your neck, his eyes roving over each one. A hand curled into the ends of his hair and tugged slightly, bringing his attention back up to you. You were smiling softly down at him, and he smirked back in turn. He chastely kissed your lips, running his hand up and down your back.

“Please,” he sighed out, “Teach me more.”

And, oh, would you be glad to. You nodded, trailing your hands down his chest and stomach to grasp to hem of his shirt. You slowly began to move it up, switching between staring at the dark, delicious skin that was being revealed to you and his eyes in order to see if he was comfortable. He watched your hands carefully, but made no move to stop you.

The cotton nightshirt was soon pulled up and over his head, and you sighed in delight at his body. You had seen his bare chest many times before, considering Connor wasn’t terribly fond of shirts when he was doing sweaty and grimy work. When he chopped lumber behind the manor, you often brought up a chair and pretended to read a book so you could watch him. There was something about watching those muscles flex and ripple as he swung an axe that made you squirm in delight.

His stomach tensed as your hands placed themselves down, running along his smooth skin. The only hair to be seen was a small smattering of a dark trail that teased before hiding away in the hem of his pants. You would explore that present later, but you still had other treats to tend to. He groaned beneath you as your nails raked light lines down his chest, urging you to push him back to indulge further.

“Lay down,” you instructed, and with slight reluctance he shifted. You held your weight above him until he was settled comfortable on his bed, propping up his head with one arm with the other lay uselessly down by his side. His fist gripped the sheets, but otherwise he looked relatively relaxed. Satisfied, you sat back down on his thighs, only now slightly closer to his groin.

You continued to move your hands up and down his chest, feeling the ways his muscles twitched and how his breath caught. Your head bent down, kissing along his collarbones and down his sternum, taking your sweet time. You planted wet kisses to him abdomen, and you could hear a grunt of discomfort as the air tinged the cool saliva left behind. Your thumbs massaged his hipbones, and you wriggled your lower half down his legs until you were not so casually perched above his obvious erection.

Oh my. “Happy to see me?”

His response was a tiny glare, but there was certainly little substance behind it. And any annoyance at all left when your hand slipped just alongside of his erection, not quite touching it. He moaned, shutting his eyes as his nostrils flared. You knew Connor had explored his own body on several occasions, but you wondered how unusual it must feel to him to have someone else so near. You were determined to make this memorable and comfortable.

You sat back up, and you noted the flash of disappointment that crossed his features as you left. He wouldn’t have to wait long, the poor thing. You crossed your arms, gripping the bottom of your nightdress and pulling it over your head. You hissed through your teeth slightly as the night air touched your nipples, causing them to immediately harden. Connor had been quite a bit more controlled when you’d exposed him.

Finally revealed to him, you decided to gauge his reaction. The look on his face was best described as a starved man discovering a hot meal waiting for him. His eyes were blown wide, his mouth open, and you could just feel how tense he was below you. He seemed in genuine awe at the sight of your body,

Nudity was not something unfamiliar to Connor. While his tribe did cover themselves up with wraps, this was often used to cover vulnerable parts rather than to preserve dignity. While many had learned to keep themselves covered in the face of easily perturbed white men, he had seen nursing mothers, naked children, and coupling men and women. He was not uncomfortable with his own nudity either, and he would often strip down to the basics on hunting trips to cool down his body and allow for mobility.

But this was something entirely different. You were still covered on your lower half by a pair of stark white bloomers, your breasts were free and exposed, inviting him to gander. And gander he did. Breasts had never seemed something inherently sexual to him, and very few considered low necklines and cleavage to be tantalizing. An exposed ankle was much more abhorrent than the food of a child, for an ankle rose to all sinful things that a woman held between her thighs.

There was something about seeing his lover exposed that made his heart clench and everything down south tingle. Your breasts, though entirely simple, were beautiful. Your skin, which looked no different than what he saw on your arms, held all sorts of secrets that were just now being told to him. He swallowed nervously and forced himself to look back up to you.

“You’re beautiful.”

The compliment was so sincere that it just about knocked the wind out of you, but you forced a gentle smile onto your face. “Thank you.”

You could see the strain in his face as he debated whether or not to reach out and touch you, but he finally settled for laying down like you had instructed him to. He would get many other chances to explore your body as much as he liked, you would ensure that. For now, you sought to make sure he was pleased.

With that in mind, your fingers hooked into the edges of his pajama pants, and with a last look up to his face, you pulled them down. You took his underwear along as well, admiring as skin was exposed inch by inch. The same dark complexion was evident, only a shade or two lighter from his skin that was shown routinely to the sun.

And then there was another part of him revealed that had you gasping. Yes, the tent in his pants had not exactly been small, but this was something entirely else. Connor himself was a bear of a man, large and imposing. It seemed that this stretched to include other anatomy as well. You found yourself raising your eyes up to the sky for only a moment to hope you would be able to please him.

He seemed to notice your sudden hesitance, and he squirmed beneath you in unease. “Is something wrong?”

Clearly you hadn’t taken into mind that you reaction might of come across negatively. You offered a small smile, pulling his pants down until you could fully shuck them off. He was now bare beneath you, only uncomfortable for the fact that you appeared to be judging him. And you were, but certainly for no bad reason.

“You’re just, ah, a little more than I expected,” you offered, your gaze dipping back down to marvel at his cock.

He was silent for a few moments. “… Is that a bad thing?”

“No! No, no, not at all!” He really had no idea, did he? You took in a deep breath, shifting his thighs apart gently and settling yourself between them. He braced himself up on his elbows, his eyes following you as you reached a hand up, stroking a finger along the underside of his cock. He whimpered, hips jerking as his eyes slammed shut.

Unless you wanted him coming undone soon, you would have to play softly. You still had a little bit more in mind for him, and that required working him just enough that he would last. So you set to work, wrapping your hand around the base of him and stroking up and down. He muttered something under his breath, collapsing back onto the sheets and throwing an arm over his eyes.

You chuckled softly. Evidently he hadn’t quite expected it to feel like this. Then again, you hadn’t expected it to feel like this either. He was soft in your hands, his foreskin sliding back and forth easily from the leaking precum. He was long, giving you room to twist your wrist as you worked him up and down. Shifting your hips slightly, you reached beneath yourself and gingerly began rubbing your clit. It would be best to prepare yourself now, considering you were going to have to take a bit of time before he could enter you.

In a small test, you darted your tongue out, swirling it around the head of his cock.

“Gods!” he cried out, lurching forward until he was sitting up entirely. In a matter of moments he was hunched over you, one hand in your hair while the other messily sprawled over your back.

You pulled back just slightly, his hold keeping you from moving very far. “Too much?” you questioned, your strokes a bit softer.

“It… Hah, I am fine. I just… I did not… I did not expect that.” His words stumbled over themselves as he tried to catch his breath.

You hummed softly, moving your mouth a bit closer to him. “So,” you began, your voice light and airy, “If I were to…”

And then you were taking him into your mouth and he was whimpering and gasping. His whole body shuddered, and his cock twitched. You groaned around him, and he hissed through his teeth at the vibrations. What you couldn’t bring into your mouth you stroked with your hand, continuing to twist your wrist. And all Connor could do was cry out above you, desperately holding himself back.

A part of you wanted to finish him like this. He was so sensitive and vulnerable, and it gave you a twisted sense of power. Despite having the stature of a bear, and despite his hands being able to control you however he wanted, he was a mess. His chest heaved and his hips bucked, and he was trying so hard to keep everything that was so tightly pent up at bay. But there was still so much you wanted to do. It seemed like a crime to just give him satisfaction this way.

So, to his disappointment, you pulled back, pulling your mouth from him with a wet pop. Tangling his hands from you, you managed to sit up and catch your breath. Connor stared at you through half-lidded eyes, braced back on his hands as his cock stood erect, begging to be touched. You would attend to it soon enough, but you needed a bit of your own release.

You shirked your underwear, depositing them onto the floor with all of the other clothes. Breathing a sigh of relief, you leaned back, running two fingers over the lips of your pussy. Luckily, touching yourself while you got him off had made you plenty wet, and in no time you would be back on him. You just needed a few minutes.

However, Connor wasn’t about to be ignored. Despite being weakened from the intense pleasure you had brought to him, he advanced on you like a predator. He tilted you back until you were laying down, your head going opposite to the headboard. His breath came out in heavy, short puffs, and his eyes glimmered with sultry intent.

“Show me how to please you.”

How could a plea for help sound so tantalizing? His husky, low tone alone had you moaning, and you dug your fingers in the sheets to regain some control. Well, if he was offering, you weren’t about to deny him. So you relaxed back, smiling up at him and spreading your hand over your stomach.

“Like this.” The hand on your stomach slithered down, grasping his wrist and bringing his hand toward you. His sucked in a breath between his teeth, but he allowed you to guide him. You took his fingers to your labia, letting them run over the outer edges. The touch was soft, insignificant, but another hand always brought more pleasure. You sighed, dragging his hand up until two fingers framed your clit.

You rubbed them back and forth, up and down, and you could feel your toes curling. It was difficult to guide him, and you wanted to just lay back and let him to the work. Thankfully, he seemed to get the idea, and soon he was massaging your clit with clumsy but determined strokes. You shivered in bliss, biting your lip and arching your back. His watched you carefully, gauging your reactions and then moving on from there. He was a fast learner.

“What else?” he softly questioned. Even he knew that this couldn’t be all.

You huffed as his hand slowed down, and you swallowed in order to get yourself ready to speak. “T-Take your fingers down…” He followed your instructions as he spoke, guiding two fingers down and down, feeling the slight purchase in skin. “… And put them in. Curl… Hah… Curl them up.”

Connor did as he was asked, slipping his fingers inside of you and curling them ever so slightly. When you moaned, he briefly paused, searching for any hint that he was doing something wrong. When you just watched him wearily, silently begging him to continue, he began to gingerly pump his fingers in and out. You sighed out, your hips raising slightly from the sheets. He wasn’t entirely skilled, but having another’s hands so deep made up for it.

On his own whim, he raised up his other hand to rub your clit as you had showed him, and he had you moaning and twisting your hands in the sheets. Satisfied that he was doing something right, he continued, continually checking in on you with little looks to make sure he was doing fine. Honestly, you wouldn’t have cared if he hadn’t been bringing you pleasure at all; just having him touch you like this was enough.

You allowed him to discover and play around, touching you in different ways than you had instructed. Some didn’t do much, while others had you crying out in surprise. It was all a lesson for him, and a benefit was being able to watch you in the throes of pleasure. Eventually, however, you reached up a shaky hand to stop him. He seemed a bit hurt, but you gave him a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Connor,” you breathed, your voice little more than a whisper, “But there’s one more thing I want to do.”

You wanted him to lay down and allow you to ride him, but you figured it might be better if he could control the pace. So you shifted your bodies around until your head was on the pillows, and your legs guided him closer to your heat. You could see the way his throat bobbed as his cock rubbed against you, and his arms slightly shook as he braced himself on either side of your head.

You reached up, wrapping an arm around his neck and tugging him down for a soft kiss. He relaxed, sighing against you. Fingers gingerly trailed down his cheek before falling above your head, wrapping themselves into the pillows. You would need something to hold onto as he began to work into you.

“Do you…?” you trailed off, trying to find the best way to word the question.

“I know what comes next,” he answered, anticipating you. He took in a deep breath, glancing down to where your bodies were joined. “I… Apologize if I do not last very long.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered, smiling as he kissed each of your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be able to continue for much longer. You were just happy that he was comfortable doing this with you.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Connor put all of his weight onto one hand so he could begin to guide himself into you. He was unsure, nervous even, but he had come this far. He wanted to be with you desperately. So he pushed in until the head of his cock slipped inside of you, causing the both of you to tense and shiver. He distributed his weight evenly once again, and with a final look toward your face, he shut his eyes and rallied all of his control as he began to push.

You groaned, an arm wrapping around his back and digging into his shoulder as he worked into you. It was slow, not quite painful, but definitely uncomfortable. You took in deep, long breaths, just giving in to the feeling as his cock slid in, curving along your inner ridges. Eventually, he had settled himself in as far as he could go, and you watched his head as it hung down, his face twitching as he got used to the feeling.

His eyes opened once he seemed to settle down, and he gazed at you. You stared right back up, stroking his shoulder to soothe any pain you might have caused with your nails. The smile he gave you was soft, genuine, and it made you stomach flutter. In a moment, however, it was fluttering for different reasons as he began to move. He went slowly, his movements jittery. Yet as he slid back in for the second time, the third time, he seemed to gain a sense of rhythm.

His gasps were loud and airy, and the sound of skin hitting skin pricked your ears like a needle. You held onto him tightly, your moans joining his own as he jostled against you. He was still ever so gentle, but it was evident he was still vying to gain control of this situation that he was thrust into. Even in the heat of the moment, you could feel his fingers clumsily twisting onto you, massaging your clit with uneven strokes.

“Connor!” you cried out, arching your back into him. His answer was a small whimper as you clenched around him, making him stall for a brief moment. Then he was back into it, thrusting faster and working harder. You sighed into him, burrowing your nose into his neck when he collapsed down onto his elbows. He was unable to hold his weight in the previous position, but this was better for you. You could now cling onto him tighter and nibble on his neck. It urged him to move more.

He was getting close. You could tell from his uneven thrusts and how hard his chest heaved, and your heels dug into his back. He planted clumsy kisses on your face, whispering sweet nothings under his breath. His native language slipped out, and you decided to forgo trying to understand him. There was already too much going on at once, and your head was reeling. In a matter of moments, he was gasping in choked breaths, his hips suddenly stilling.

You could feel his release fill you, spilling out onto the sheets. You expected him to collapse to your side, to do his best to recover, but he worked his fingers on you. He couldn’t thrust anymore, he was too sensitive, but he didn’t want to end without you. You clung to him, shivering and crying out, your nails leaving angry half-moons in his shoulders. Luckily, you hadn’t been far behind him, and you were soon squeezing the last bits of cum from his cock.

The both of you hissed as he slipped out, the cool night air slithering in to make you shudder. He laid next to you, an arm thrown over his eyes as his chest rose and fell. You were in no better shape, unable to even close your legs. Instead, the two of you laid there, allowing your bodies to naturally recover and settle into a state of sleepy, post-sex bliss. Connor grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed, unfolding it and bringing it over the both of you. His arm curled beneath your head, cradling it as he brought you in to kiss your temple.

“Thank you,” he murmured, burrowing his nose into your hair. You moaned your own thanks, gingerly turning over so you could snuggle into him. For once, you weren’t able to really begin a conversation, Connor seemed fine with this, and he was glad to just hold onto you. He felt a little sore, but he’d felt much worse pain. And it seemed all the more bearable with you in his arms.

Eventually, the both of you were able to catch your breath, and you simply listened to the calls of crickets outside of the manor. His hand lazily stroked your hair, and he looked about ready to fall asleep any moment. Sleep normally was difficult for him to come to, but all of the actions prior had exhausted him completely.

“Connor?” you murmured, listening to his hum of attention. You brought your head up from his chest, noting how his eyes shined down at you despite of how tired he was. “You’re okay with what we did, correct? You’re happy?”

“Any moment spent with you makes me the happiest man alive.”

Such loving words from a man so exhausted! You gave a breathy giggle, placing your head back onto his chest. “I’m glad.”

His chest rumbled as he continued to speak. “I am glad you have helped me despite of all of my flaws. I am not a perfect man, but you make me feel like one. I thank you for that.”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, you think too much.”

“Yet you continue to deal with me.”

You snorted out a laugh. “I don’t mind at all. You’re an interesting man. I could gladly spend the rest of my days learning everything about you.”

“Let us hope you won’t have to wonder for forever. I will always tell you everything I can.”

“I know.”

He was silent for a few moments more. “… Thank you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“For being my friend and my lover. You make me want for nothing.”

Oh. “You’re welcome.”

“Goodnight.”

He curled over you just slightly more, and it wasn’t long before you could hear his small snores. His breath was warm and his grip heavy, but you were not uncomfortable. Having him so close meant so much to you. You would rather not be anywhere else in the world right now. A man of so many secrets and so many stories, Connor was difficult and rigid. Yet you would never give him up for anything else. As he was drawn to you, you were drawn to him. It was impossible to separate you.

Connor was flawed.

And he was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to get out! I've been putting it off for a really long time, and every time I've had the chance to write it, I've squirmed away and done something else. But thank you so much for reading this and putting up with me!
> 
> As always, I do requests! If you have something in mind, hit me up at madlyhazel.tumblr.com.


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